Lich King's Revenge
by August08
Summary: With the Lich King dead, she had thought his influence had died with him. However, Arthas still haunts her nightmares. Though, as her friends and family try to convince Trisen that the Lich King is dead, Arthas resurfaces to take his revenge against the small band who had sought to destroy him. And he will stop at nothing to get it.
1. Prologue

**A/N** : Though the characters are the same, this story stands alone from my other Warcraft stories. It was inspired by a dream my friend, Yazzy Dollface had, and, naturally, I had to turn it into a story. It was too good to just let slip away. All I ask is that you, as readers, keep an open mind as this is a "what if?" story. I hope you enjoy it, and reviews and feedback are always welcome. But no negativity, please. There's too much of that in the world, as it is. Spread kindness, people. Please and thank you.

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing associated with World of Warcraft. People, places and events belong to Blizzard. I only own Trisen, Thallon and Raenus. Traylon, Zorrion, Sairexanaris, Yazzoo and Solanlan belong to Yazzy. Rodonov and Tomparis belong to my other friend, rodonov. They were gracious enough to let me borrow their characters.

* * *

 _The winds of Icecrown were bitter and cold. The full moon hung high over the citadel. Death Knights of every race stood gathered before the Lich King's throne. Robes of black and silver rustled in the wind, faces hidden in the shadow of their hoods, blue eyes glowing deeply. She walked down the middle of the crowd, back straight, eyes forward. The Lich King's gaze was upon her. She had a task, and she would not fail._

 _The Lich King sat upon his throne, glowing eyes gazing down at his Death Knights. She could feel his eyes boring into her. Her eyes were locked on a lone figure kneeling at the base of the stairs leading up to the throne. It was a male Blood Elf. From his tattered robes she knew him to be a mage. His raven black hair fell down over his face, hiding his features. She came to stand in front of him, eyes going from the figure to the Lich King. Arthas gave her a single nod._

 _She drew her blade, the steel resonating with the rune of power she had embedded in it long ago. She placed the flat end of the blade under the figure's chin and lifted his head up. His hair parted, revealing his face. He was young, for a Blood Elf. His features were soft and handsome. His glowing green eyes held a hardness from seeing fierce battles. However, his fight ended here._

 _But, as her eyes gazed into his, she felt a strange sensation wash over her, as if she knew this mage. The hardness in his eyes was replaced by one of sadness and regret. She hated the way he looked at her. It felt like pity. And then, he spoke._

 _"Trisen," he whispered, his voice hoarse and weak from the cold._

 _That single word sent her blood boiling. How did he know her name? And how dare he speak it with such remorse. She held her sword above her head. The blade gleaming hungrily in the light of the full moon. The mage closed his eyes. She brought the sword down._

Trisen shot up in bed, eyes wide, chest heaving with fright. She looked around, finding herself in her bedroom and not in Icecrown. The full moon's light filtered in through the window. Silvermoon City shone like a diamond outside. Trisen's attention was brought to something beside her. She looked down to see Traylon stirring in the bed next to her. His raven black hair glowed silvery blue in the moonlight.

Trisen breathed a sigh of relief as she put her hands over her face. It was just a dream. Nothing more than a nightmare. Trisen lowered her hands and pushed back her side of the blankets, carefully getting out of bed. Her white dressing gown flowed down to her feet as she headed downstairs to the kitchen. She went to the ice box and broke off a small chunk of ice, dropping it into a glass next to the chest. Trisen took the glass and went over to the small bar. She picked up a bottle of Darkmoon Special Reserve and poured herself a glass. Replacing the stopper on the bottle, she took a sip of the drink.

"You must be anxious for sleep," a soft voice said from the darkness.

Trisen looked up to see Traylon coming into the kitchen. She looked away and took another sip.

"Who was it this time?" Traylon asked.

Trisen swallowed down the potent brew. "Sairexanaris," she lied.

"Tris, do you really think I don't know you well enough to know when you're lying?" Traylon questioned, crossing his arms. "Who was it?"

Trisen's haunted look was answer enough. The mage slowly nodded in realization.

"No wonder your choice of drink," he commented.

"I wish the nightmares would stop," Trisen said.

"Everyone has nightmares, Tris," Traylon told her.

"Not like these," Trisen replied.

She gulped down the rest of the Reserve and went to pour herself another glass. Traylon walked over and put his hands over hers.

"It's over, Trisen," he assured her. "He's dead."

"There must always be a Lich King," Trisen reminded him. "If not Arthas then Bolvar Fordragon. You were there, you saw what happened."

"Yes, I was," Traylon said. "And I also saw Fordragon get encased in ice. The Lich King you knew is dead."

Trisen met his gaze, eyes scared. "I can feel him, Traylon," she whispered. "He's still there. Gnawing at my every thought. What if he's not dead? Evil like that can't be destroyed so easily."

Traylon cupped his wife's face in his hands, his green eyes locking with her blue ones. "What you're feeling is an after effect of the nightmares," he told her. "Arthas is dead. We put an end to his reign."

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Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	2. Chapter 1

Ten years earlier...

The rebellion against the Lich King had begun. She was one of many who had left the Lich King's side. While others of her kind had flocked to the safety of Orgrimmar, Trisen had wandered Durotar, fearing what awaited her within the fortress walls. Orgrimmar scared her, as did the Horde's warchief. She had heard stories about Garrosh Hellscream. However, she knew she couldn't idle any longer. No matter how she was greeted, she had to renew her loyalties to the Horde. Garrosh Hellscream and the rest of the Horde leaders had to know she was no longer under the Lich King's influence.

Steeling herself, Trisen approached the gates of Orgrimmar. The greeting was far less than welcoming. She didn't know what she had expected, but having stones and other various objects thrown at her hadn't been it. Trisen ducked, covered her head with her arms and ran into the city. She grunted as a large rock slammed into the back of her helm. She stumbled, her foot catching on a rock. She pitched forward, falling into the dusty road. The roar of a dragon made her roll to the side.

"Get out of the way, Death Knight!" a Goblin hunter yelled.

Trisen pushed herself to her knees. A pair of black boots came into her vision. Her eyes moved upward, taking in the sight of the handsome Blood Elf mage standing over her. He wore black robes with silver trim. His raven black hair flowed over his shoulders, glowing silvery blue in the sunlight. He held out a gloved hand towards her.

"Need a hand?" he asked, his voice kind and gentle.

Trisen reached up and took his hand. The mage pulled her to her feet.

"Thank you," Trisen said.

"My pleasure," the mage replied with a smile. "Been seeing a lot of you guys around here, lately. I thought you Death Knights stuck to the Plaguelands."

Beneath her helm, Trisen's face burned with embarrassment. "It's a...really long story," she answered.

The mage tilted his head. "Mind taking off the helm? It's a little unnerving just seeing two glowing blue eyes."

Trisen reached up and carefully removed her helm. Her ponytail fell loose, the sun catching her brown hair and setting it alight with red highlights. The mage smiled.

"Much better," he said. "Finally a cute one."

Trisen's blush deepened. "Excuse me?"

The mage shrugged. "All I've seen are Tauren, Orcs, Trolls and Goblins. Haven't met any Blood Elf Death Knights. It's a nice change."

Trisen felt her face begin to burn with a deeper blush. "Well, thank you for your help," she said. "But, I have to see the Warchief."

The mage offered her his arm. "Allow me to escort you."

Tucking her helm under her left arm, Trisen shyly linked her right arm with his. The mage guided her through the dusty road. Trisen glanced around to see other citizens giving them strange looks.

"Why are you being nice to me?" she asked.

The mage shrugged. "You looked like you could use some kindness," he replied.

Trisen glanced at the ground. "Thank you," she whispered.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the mage smile. Trisen looked up and surveyed the city. Orgrimmar was overwhelming. So many races in one place, but not as many as in Ebon Hold. Her blue eyes scanned her surroundings. She saw paladins, warriors, mages and shamans. However, there wasn't a Death Knight to be seen. Trisen wondered if she was the only one in Orgrimmar.

"Here we are," the mage suddenly spoke.

Trisen looked up to see them standing outside a large circular building.

"Grommash Hold," the mage said. "Garrosh Hellscream is inside. I assume that's who you're wanting to see."

Trisen nodded in confirmation. "Yes, it is. I feel like I have to renew my loyalties to him and the Horde."

The mage smiled and patted her hand. "Well, if you need anything, I'll be right here."

Trisen returned the smile and headed for the door. Before she entered the building, she turned around to face the mage.

"I didn't get your name," she said.

"Traylon," the mage replied. "My name is Traylon."

"My name's Trisen. Thank you for your kindness," Trisen said.

* * *

Two years later...

Trisen stood outside Grommash Hold. If her heart had been beating it would have been pounding against her ribs. There was no use in running. Hellscream would find her no matter where she ran. Trisen hung her head and closed her eyes.

"If I wasn't already dead he'd kill me," she groaned.

Taking a deep breath, Trisen put one foot in front of the other and entered Grommash Hold. The inside was dimly lit and empty, save for the haunting, looming figure of the brown skinned Orc sitting on the Warchief's throne. Trisen held her helm in her hands, shrinking into herself. Garrosh's amber eyes bore into her. If looks could kill, she'd be dead twice over.

Hellscream drummed his fingers against the arm of the throne. "You've got spine coming in here, Death Knight," he growled.

Trisen bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Warchief," she apologized, her voice small and fearful.

"I gave you the simple task of ridding our front lines of the Alliance scum," Hellscream said. "And you couldn't do that?"

"We were caught by surprise," Trisen tried to explain. "I know that's no excuse, but the Alliance were prepared."

Her dead heart dropped the instant Hellscream stood up and marched down to her. The small Blood Elf felt even smaller against the massive hulking Orc. Amber eyes glared into blue.

"You are lucky you're already dead, Death Knight," Garrosh snarled. "Those who fail the Horde and allow the Alliance to gain ground are not looked upon in favor."

Trisen heard herself whimper. Not since the Lich King had she been afraid of anything or anyone.

"If you wish to redeem yourself in the Warchief's eyes, you had better come up with a clever way of ridding the Horde of the Alliance," Hellscream said.

"As you wish, Warchief," Trisen whimpered.

"Good," Garrosh snarled. "Now, get out."

She didn't have to be told twice. Trisen turned and bolted out of Grommash Hold as fast as her legs could carry her. The sun was blinding, the heat sweltering. However, it was far better than the chill inside.

"You look like death," a voice sounded.

Trisen looked to her right and saw Traylon walking up. It looked like he was coming from the vendor's market.

"What happened?" the mage asked.

"Failed mission," Trisen replied.

Traylon winced as if he was in pain. "That's a self signed death sentence," he commented.

"Good thing I'm already dead," Trisen stated, walking away from the building.

Traylon tagged along as she started walking. "So, what are your plans, now?" he asked.

"To try and figure out a way to get the target off my back," Trisen replied. "Garrosh Hellscream is almost more frightening than the Lich King."

Traylon folded his hands behind his back. "How about a drink?" he offered. "It might help calm your nerves."

Trisen nodded and sighed. "Anything to help."

Traylon took her hand and guided her towards the inn. They walked into the small building and headed to the bar at the back. A small handful of patrons were sitting around enjoying a nice afternoon drink. Traylon led Trisen over to the bar and they sat down. The Orc bartender asked what they wanted and Traylon gave him their orders. As they waited for their drinks, Traylon decided to engage in conversation.

"The Lightwind clan is having a family reunion in Silvermoon in a few month's time," he began. "And, as always, if I fail to bring someone, Zorrion and most likely every other member of my family is going to be on my back about finding a suitable mate."

Trisen couldn't help but smirk. "Zorrion? I can't see that," she teased.

Traylon shook his head. "Just because he's my twin, he thinks he knows what I want," he grumbled.

"He's just looking out for you," Trisen told him.

Traylon gave her a pathetic, pleading look. "Trisen, please, I'm begging you," he said, folding his hands in front of him in a pleading manner. "I haven't asked you for much these last two years. But, if you could, would you please accompany me to this reunion? Just to get everyone off my back?"

Trisen was thankful the drinks had arrived. It gave her something to hide her grin behind. She took a long sip of her drink, letting Traylon simmer in his discomfort.

"Tris?" Traylon asked.

Her dead heart ignited anew at the nickname. It was the first time he had called her that, and she found she liked the sound of it. Trisen turned to look at the mage. He looked rather adorable when he was begging.

"Alright," she finally answered. "I'll join you."

Traylon let out a sigh of relief and bowed his head. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you, so much."

Trisen chuckled and took another sip of her drink. She hadn't met any of Traylon's family, except for Zorrion. Who knew? Maybe she would like the others. But, would they like her? Only time would tell.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	3. Chapter 2

Wayfarer's Rest was bursting with activity. Trisen had no idea how big Traylon's family was. There was hardly any room to stand, let alone sit. The matrons were weaving their way through the crowd serving drinks and refreshments. Trisen began to feel a little overwhelmed. She had grown accustomed to the clutter in Orgrimmar, but she couldn't remember the last time she had been in a room with so many of her own people.

However, as she gazed around at the Blood Elves present, Trisen had the saddening thought that they weren't her people anymore. She had been tainted by the Lich King, twisted and warped to do deeds of darkness. These elves walked in the Light. There was no way they would accept her.

Trisen looked up when she felt a hand on her back. Traylon gave her a reassuring smile before taking her hand and leading her into the crowd. Some of them gave her a wary glance as they walked past, but Traylon just kept walking. Trisen turned to see where he was leading her. He was heading for a small group of male elves on the far side of the inn. She recognized Zorrion, mostly by his high energy laugh. One of them wore red robes and a flaming skull hood. The third wore leather armor. By the bow that hung from his back, Trisen gathered that he was a hunter. When Traylon and Trisen walked up, the other three turned to greet them.

"Hey, Tray, glad you could make it," the hunter said.

"You were assuming I wasn't going to come?" Traylon asked.

"Well, you have been buried in your books more so than usual," the red robed elf replied. "You are the one who skipped out of your own birthday celebrations so you could study."

Trisen gave Traylon a questioning look. He shook his head.

"Anyway, introductions are in order," the mage said. "Trisen, this my cousin, Sairexanaris and my eldest brother, Yazzoo. Sai, as you've probably already guessed, is a hunter. He prefers the company of animals rather than his own kind."

"Duskcoat is better company," Sairexanaris stated as he took a sip of his drink.

"And Yazzoo is a priest who wields the powers of Shadow," Traylon finished. "You already know Zorrion."

Zorrion waved excitedly. Trisen waved back.

"So, are we to assume you have finally found a mate?" Yazzoo asked.

Trisen felt her face begin to burn at the priest's words.

"We're...working on it," Traylon answered.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" Zorrion asked. "For a dead girl."

"No tact," Yazzoo commented dryly as Trisen's pale face turned red and Traylon put a hand over his eyes.

Sairexanaris laughed behind his glass. Zorrion threw an arm around his twin's shoulders.

"You know I love you, right, Tray?" the warlock asked.

"Funny way of showing it," Sairexanaris commented.

Zorrion walked around behind Traylon and Trisen and put his arms around both their shoulders.

"They make such a cute couple," he said. His face lit up with an idea. "Yazzy, you should totally marry them."

Yazzoo frowned deeply. "Why?"

"You're a priest. You can marry people, can't you?" Zorrion asked.

"When?" Yazzoo asked next.

"Why not now?" Zorrion replied.

"Zor!" Traylon yelled. "Fly off before I arcane barrage you!"

Trisen laughed as Zorrion ducked away. She couldn't remember if she had a family of her own, but it was nice to be around Traylon's family. It surprised her a little that neither one of them seemed to mind that she was a Death Knight. She had actually found Zorrion's earlier comment a bit flattering. She didn't think anyone thought she was pretty for the simple fact that she was dead.

The celebrations lasted long into the night. Whenever Traylon would introduce her, he was always asked the same question of whether he had found his mate. Trisen's anxiety grew less and less the longer she stayed. It also helped that she was with Traylon. However, as the moon rose high in the night sky, Trisen excused herself and stepped outside into the warm evening air. She sat on the front step, watching the stars.

"Do Death Knights get tired?" a voice sounded behind her.

Trisen looked over her shoulder to see Sairexanaris walk up. He sat down beside her as Trisen looked away.

"We do. But, it takes longer for us to fall asleep than the living," Trisen explained.

The hunter nodded, but didn't say anything. The two elves gazed up at the stars, enjoying each other's company. Finally, Sairexanaris broke the silence.

"I think you've made Traylon very happy," he said.

Trisen glanced at him. "Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Never before has Tray even entertained the idea of joining in on family gatherings," Sairexanaris explained. "He's always locked away in his room, his nose in a book. But, since he's met you, he's more open. I've gotten more letters from Tray in the last two months than I have in five years."

"Why did he not write that often?" Trisen asked.

The hunter shrugged. "I guess he found more comfort in studying arcane magic than he did in family," he mused. "But, Tray's always been like that. Ever since we were kids. He always had his mind set to becoming the next great Archmage. So, he moved away to study and we rarely ever heard from him."

"That's kind of sad when you think about it," Trisen commented.

"It is," Sairexanaris agreed. "But, studies like that don't come without some degree of sacrifice. He still had Zorrion, though. The little pest never could leave Traylon's side for very long."

Trisen smiled and looked at the ground. "He's an interesting warlock," she said.

"That he is," Sairexanaris chuckled. He glanced over at Trisen. "And then, you came along. The miracle with blue eyes."

"I highly doubt I'm a miracle," Trisen replied.

"No? Well, let's see. In the last two years since Tray's met you, he's opened up a lot more. He writes more often. Zorrion says he's more outgoing. And, tonight. Traylon is here instead of being sealed away in some dusty old library. If that's not a miracle, I don't know what is," Sairexanaris told her. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You're the one, Trisen," he whispered. "Both of you just don't know it, yet."

With that, he stood up and went back inside. Trisen remained sitting on the step, her thoughts spinning uncontrollably in her head. Was it possible to have a normal life even in death? She wrapped her arms around her legs and propped her chin on her knees. A small smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth. If it was, there was no one she would rather be with than with the mage she had fallen at the feet of.

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Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** : see chapter one

* * *

Trisen returned to find Traylon talking to another mage and priest. The mage didn't look too pleased, her beautiful features were twisted in a mask of displeasure. Trisen gathered that the elves Traylon were talking to were his parents, since he looked just like the female mage. Trisen hung back, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. However, it ended quickly as Traylon stormed away from his parents, heading towards her.

She hated seeing Traylon upset. His eyes always became cold and hard. She never told him, but it was a look the Lich King often got when someone messed up. Trisen reached out and grabbed Traylon's wrist as he walked by. He stopped moving and turned to look at her. His eyes softened when he saw her.

"I'm sure they're just looking out for you," Trisen spoke softly.

Traylon looked over his shoulder towards his parents. "They've never understood," he muttered, so low that Trisen almost didn't hear it.

"What don't they understand?" Trisen asked.

Traylon sighed and shook his head, reaching up to push a strand of Trisen's hair behind her ear. "Nothing," he told her. "You need not concern yourself with my family issues."

"You're my best friend, Traylon. You know I worry about you," Trisen stated.

Traylon smiled. "I know," he said. He gazed around the inn. "It's getting late. We should probably head to bed."

"An excellent idea, Tray," Zorrion said, seeming to come out of nowhere.

Traylon jumped in surprise. "Damn it, Zor!" he shouted.

"Follow me," Zorrion whispered mysteriously before dashing towards the ramp leading up to the upper level.

Rolling his eyes, Traylon followed his twin with Trisen right on his heels. Zorrion led them up the ramp and over to a room on the far side of the hallway. Traylon poked his head in the doorway and looked around.

"This is yours and Tris's room," Zorrion announced.

"Zor, there's only one bed," Traylon pointed out.

"Exactly," Zorrion stated. "That's why you share."

Horror destroyed the calm expression on Trisen's face and Traylon's began to turn a dark shade of red. Zorrion clapped his brother on the back before skipping to his room.

"See you in the morning," he sang out.

"Sh-share?" Trisen stammered.

"I'm gonna kill him," Traylon growled.

At that moment, Sairexanaris and Yazzoo came up the ramp. "No use in fighting it," Yazzoo called out. "Every other room has been taken. You two are stuck together."

"He planned this," Traylon realized as his brother and cousin disappeared into their own rooms. "The little twerp planned this."

Trisen stepped into the quaint little room and looked around. "It's not so bad," she said, sizing up the bed. "Bed's big enough. Put a blanket down the middle, it'll be fine."

Traylon pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "The little jerk is getting an arcane turret up his ass for this," he grumbled.

"It's just for a night, Tray," Trisen said. "I'm sure we can share a bed for just one night."

Traylon glanced up just in time to see Trisen undo the clasps of her spaulders. His heart skipped a few beats.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Getting ready for bed," Trisen replied. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

She laid her spaulders on the floor and began undoing the clasps of her chest plate.

"I'm going to see what Sai is doing," Traylon said, turning abruptly and leaving the room.

Trisen began to smirk as she removed her chest plate. After her armor was off and laid neatly on the floor, Trisen raised her arms above her head and stretched. It felt good to have the heavy plate off. She felt so light, almost weightless. Trisen pulled back the covers and crawled into bed with nothing but her undergarments on. She pulled the sheets up to her chin and closed her eyes, relishing the soft, cozy mattress and pillow.

As she began to drift off to sleep, Trisen could hear tentative footsteps scuff into the room. Traylon had returned. The sounds of him getting ready for bed lulled Trisen off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Traylon looked at himself in the full length mirror. His robes almost seemed to shimmer, his hair glowing a silvery blue. Today was the day. He had been preparing for this moment for the last two years. There had been an ulterior motive for him attending this reunion. Only four people knew about it, and one of them almost let it slip the night before.

He turned when a knock sounded at the door. Yazzoo stood in the doorway. His brother had removed his flaming hood, revealing his long, blonde hair. Yazzoo was beaming.

"Everyone's waiting," the priest said. "Zorrion and Trisen should be here any minute."

Traylon nodded. "Good." He checked himself one last time. "It's now or never."

The brothers headed down to the lower level just as Zorrion and Trisen walked into the inn. They were carrying several bags of clothes, more than likely for Zorrion. Traylon looked over towards his parents, Fallonia and Travern Lightwind. He knew they didn't approve of Trisen, but what they thought didn't matter. This was his choice.

"Everyone, can I have your attention?" Traylon spoke loudly.

Those gathered fell silent, all turning their attention to the young mage. Traylon felt his heart begin to pound nervously against his ribs. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to Trisen.

"In the last two years, something has changed," he began, looking into Trisen's eyes. "The sun seems brighter, the sky more blue. The world seems to be a bit more clear." He took Trisen's hands in his. "And all of it has happened since I met you. For the last two years I've asked myself, 'Why me?' Why was it me that found you that fateful day when you first walked into Orgrimmar? And, I've come to the conclusion that...maybe it was meant to be. We both needed someone to look out for us. Someone to watch our back when times get tough." Traylon let go of Trisen's hand and reached into his robe's inside pocket. "You've given me back the reason to live, instead of just existing."

Trisen let out a small breath when Traylon pulled out a small box and lowered himself to one knee. The world fell away and it was just the two of them. Trisen put a hand over her mouth in awestruck surprise when Traylon opened the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.

"Trisen Stormrider. Will you marry me?" Traylon asked.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N** : The Lich King will soon appear, I promise. Bear with the OCs one chapter longer. Reviews and feedback are always welcome, but no negativity, please. Build up, don't tear down. Thank you.

 **Disclaimer** : see chapter one

* * *

Trisen gazed at her reflection in the full length mirror. Her new silver armor glistened in the sunlight that filtered in through the window. Her hair was up in the usual ponytail, however, it was decorated with pins made of the most beautiful diamonds she had ever seen. Trisen removed her left gauntlet and gazed at the ring on her ring finger. She had come to discover that Yazzoo had made the ring, as well as the pins that held her hair in place.

Trisen looked up when she heard the door open. Zorrion hurried into the room, grinning from ear to ear. He rushed over and threw his arms around Trisen's neck, pulling her into a tight hug.

"I'm so happy for you," he said.

"Thank you...Zor. Can't...breathe," Trisen gasped.

Zorrion pulled away and held her out at arm's length. "You and Tray totally deserve each other," he said. "You have no idea how long we've been waiting for this day."

Trisen smiled and chuckled lightly. "Thanks, again." Her smile faded. "However, there are two elves I know of that don't approve of this courtship."

"Pfft," Zorrion said, waving a hand. "Pay no heed to Ma and Pa Lightwind. Unless you're a mage or a priest, like Yazzy and Traylon, you don't hold much favor with them."

Trisen thought she detected a hint of bitterness in the warlock's voice, but knew that couldn't be possible. Zorrion didn't get bitter. However, she didn't miss the look of sadness in her friend's eyes.

"Zor, what's wrong?" she asked.

Zorrion looked up at her. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. I, uh...bad memory," he answered. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

He turned to leave, but Trisen grabbed his arm. "Zor, what's wrong?" she asked again. "What happened with your parents?"

Zorrion gave her a quick glance before looking away again. "It's not easy being a warlock," he whispered. "To be disowned by your own kin."

Trisen stared at him in horror. "What?" she breathed in shock. "Your own parents disowned you? For being a warlock?"

"My family walks in the Light," Zorrion reminded her. "They're priests, mages, hunters. There may even be a paladin or two in there, somewhere." He shook his head, refocusing on his tale. "Anyway, when I developed my powers and my parents discovered I was a warlock, they weren't too pleased. I had to fight to earn their respect and favor."

Trisen saw the bubbly, high energy warlock in a whole new light. In the two and a half years that she had known him, she never knew this side of Zorrion. He was always so cheerful, so full of life. Never before had she entertained the idea that there was a serious side to him. A hurt and slightly damaged side.

"But, anyway, we're not here to talk about my depressing past," Zorrion said, his bright smile returning. "We're here to celebrate you and Tray. Which remains me, we'd better get you to the Court of the Sun before everyone thinks I ran away with the bride."

* * *

Traylon pulled at his robes. They were white with gold trim. He also wore white spaulders, gloves and boots. A white staff with a fuchsia crystal at the top was on his back. Sairexanaris nudged his cousin to get him to stop fidgeting. Traylon lowered his hands, releasing a strained breath.

"Everything will be fine," the hunter told him.

"I still can't believe he agreed to do this," Traylon said.

"He's your father. Besides, Trisen proved to be a worthy daughter-in-law. Travern knows she means you no harm," Sairexanaris stated.

Traylon went to tug at his robes again, but a pointed look from the hunter made him lower his hand. He looked around the Court. It was packed with members of his family. He had to wonder if Trisen had any family of her own. He assumed she did, but couldn't remember them. He had thought about looking into her family history, but didn't know how she would feel about it. Maybe there were some things that were better off staying in the past.

A horse's whinny made him look up. Everyone stood up and turned to watch as Zorrion helped Trisen down off his horse. Trisen linked her arm around Zorrion's as he led her down the aisle. Traylon's heart fluttered when he saw his bride-to-be. Her silver armor glistened like a diamond in the high noon sun. The pins that Yazzoo had made for her hair ignited like fire stones.

Sairexanaris gave his cousin a sideways glance, grinning when he saw the happy gleam in Traylon's eyes. When Trisen and Zorrion reached the front, Traylon walked up to meet them. He took Trisen's arm in his and brought her the rest of the way. Zorrion went to stand beside Sairexanaris. The guests sat down and the ceremony commenced.

Traylon spent more time staring at Trisen than focusing on the ceremony. She met his gaze and gave him a small smile. Zorrion swayed gently on his feet, his trademark grin on his face. He had to swallow down a gleeful cheer when Traylon and Trisen exchanged vows and rings. However, soon his smile faded to be replaced by a thoughtful one. Sairexanaris noticed the look.

"What?" he whispered.

"Look at them," Zorrion whispered back.

Sairexanaris faced Traylon and his bride. "So?"

"She's in armor. He's in a dress," Zorrion pointed out, his voice low. "I guess we know which one wears the pants in this relationship."

Sairexanaris swallowed a laugh, putting a hand to his mouth. He quietly cleared his throat. "That's not funny," he whispered, but the humor in his voice betrayed him.

Travern and Yazzoo concluded the ceremony, giving the bride and groom permission to seal their marriage with a kiss. As the mage and Death Knight locked lips for the first time, the crowd stood up and applauded. Traylon and Trisen parted and smiled at each other.

"No turning back, now," Traylon said.

"You couldn't get rid of me if you tried," Trisen told him with a flirting grin.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	6. Chapter 5

Two months later...

The journey to Northrend had been long and tiresome. They had been on the zeppelin for a solid two weeks. However, the Lich King had surfaced again, and the Warchief demanded fresh soldiers to take up arms against the threat. Trisen leaned on the edge of the deck, looking out over the vast ocean. There were other races mingling about, but none came close to her. She didn't mind, though. She was feeling too nauseated to speak to anyone.

Over the roar of the wind, Trisen heard footsteps come across the wooden deck. She looked up to see two Blood Elf males walk towards her. One was a red-head, the other blonde. The red-head looked to be a warlock, while the other seemed to be a hunter. Trisen turned away again, hoping they would walk by.

"Excuse me," someone said.

Trisen turned again, seeing the warlock and hunter standing beside her. "Yes?" she asked.

A look of shock, horror and relief washed over the warlock's face. "It is you," he breathed.

Trisen frowned. "Beg pardon?"

"We finally found you," the warlock said.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?" Trisen asked.

"Tris, it's us. Rodonov and Tomparis," the warlock said.

"Who?" Trisen questioned, her confusion deepening. "And, how do you know my name?"

The hunter stepped around the warlock. "We're your brothers, Tris," he said.

The wind suddenly felt extremely cold. Trisen stared at the warlock and hunter in stunned silence.

"What?" she whispered.

"We lost you in the Scourge war," the warlock began. "Along with our parents. The Lich King stole you from us. I'm Rodonov, and this is Tomparis. We've been searching for you for years. Ever since we found out that the Death Knights defected."

Trisen slowly shook her head. "I don't know you," she breathed in regret.

Rodonov looked like he had been stabbed in the stomach. "Tris, please. You have to remember," he begged, taking her hands. "We're your family."

Trisen shook her head again. "I don't know you," she repeated. "I can't remember."

"Hey!" someone suddenly yelled. "Get away from my wife!"

Rodonov and Tomparis turned to see a mage storm up to them. His hands were glowing with arcane power.

"I said, get away from my wife," the mage demanded.

"We mean her no harm, sir," Tomparis said, turning to face him.

"Who are you?" the mage snapped.

"Rodonov and Tomparis Stormrider," the young hunter answered.

The mage halted in his tracks. "Did you say Stormrider?" he asked for confirmation.

"Yes, sir," Tomparis replied.

"My name is Stormrider," Trisen said.

Rodonov nodded. "We're your brothers," he said. "You're our little sister." He reached into his robe's inner pocket and pulled out a picture. "See? This is us before the war."

Trisen looked down at the photograph. It showed her with two boys and their parents. Overwhelming sorrow crashed down on her. She put a hand to her mouth as she fought back tears.

"We're your family, Tris," Rodonov whispered.

"I can't remember," Trisen repeated.

"That's okay," Rodonov said. "We'll help you remember."

* * *

Trisen walked through Warsong Hold. They had been stationed in Northrend for a number of weeks now, and there was still no word on the Lich King. She hoped that maybe she would be able to get some information from the Warchief. She approached the war room, but stopped outside when she heard raised voices on the other side.

"I don't take kindly to failure, General," Hellscream was saying.

"He has taken out our forces at every turn, Warchief," the stationed General said. "We can't get close enough to take him out."

Trisen stood up straight and entered the war room. The General and Hellscream turned to see who had walked in. The Warchief looked like he was about to murder someone.

"I did not send for you, Death Knight," he snarled.

"I know, Warchief. But, I couldn't help but overhear," Trisen said.

"What do you want?" Hellscream demanded impatiently.

"A chance to redeem myself," Trisen replied.

The two Orcs fell silent. Hellscream narrowed his eyes.

"Go on," he said.

"Your men don't know Icecrown, that's why the Lich King has been able to best them at every turn," Trisen explained. "But, I do. I can lead a small group into the citadel and take out the Lich King."

"You want to lead?" Hellscream asked tauntingly. "Why would I trust my men to your care?"

"Actually, Warchief, I have a team of my own picked out," Trisen replied. "We may be small, but we're strong. We can rid Azeroth of the Lich King. I can promise you that."

* * *

"I win again," Zorrion declared, revealing his cards.

"You're cheating," Tomparis complained.

Zorrion chuckled evilly as he scooped the gold towards him. "If you can't afford to pay, then don't play," he stated.

Traylon rolled his eyes, but looked up when the door to the barracks opened and Trisen walked in.

"Hey, Tris, how'd it go?" he asked.

Trisen didn't say anything as she walked over to a closet and opened it. Traylon caught a glimpse of his wife's old Death Knight armor. Trisen took out the helm.

"Tris? What are you doing?" Traylon asked.

"Gear up, boys. We're taking on the Lich King," Trisen said.

The men stopped their card game and looked at her. "Beg pardon?" Zorrion asked.

Traylon got to his feet and walked over to her. "What'd you say?"

Trisen turned to face him. "We're taking on the Lich King," she repeated.

She took her armor out of the closet and went behind a changing curtain. Traylon looked over at the others. Zorrion shrugged. Traylon turned back to the curtain.

"Tris, what do you mean we're taking on the Lich King?" he asked.

"Hellscream has given me permission to lead a small group into Icecrown," Trisen explained as she strapped on her armor. "It's time Arthas was brought to justice for his crimes."

"Sis, it's suicide," Rodonov stated.

Trisen walked out from behind the curtain, dressed in her full navy blue armor, her helm tucked under her left arm.

"The Lich King has haunted my nightmares for far too long," she said. "He needs to pay for what he's done." She looked at each male in turn. "So, who's with me?"

Zorrion stuck his hand up. "I'm in," he chimed.

"My bow is yours to command," Sairexanaris said.

"Well, no sister of ours is going into Icecrown without us," Rodonov said, putting a hand on Tomparis's shoulder.

Yazzoo sighed. "Well, someone needs to heal your asses," he said.

"You wield shadow," Trisen told him.

"I healed before I went to shadow," Yazzoo answered. "I think it's time the old healing tomes were taken out and dusted off."

"And, you're not going in there without me," Traylon declared.

Trisen smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it," she said.

* * *

The winds of Icecrown bit cold and hard. The small group stood beyond the main gate of the citadel. They knew the plan, they knew the dangers. Trisen had given them a run through of what they would be expecting. There were monsters and guards between them and the Lich King. It wouldn't be an easy fight. However, they stuck by her, each one as determined as the next. They had met up with Tirion Fordring at the gates. The human had agreed to accompany them on their quest.

As they started through the frozen planes of the citadel, Trisen couldn't help but wonder if she would see someone she once knew. Not all Death Knights had defected, some still remained loyal to Arthas. An old flame being one. Determination fueled her axes as she took down guard after guard. But, she knew she wasn't alone. She had her family with her, both new and old.

It was a long, treacherous battle to the summit. The wind was even colder up above. Tired and sore, the group approached the throne of the Lich King. Arthas sat up above. Bolvar Fordragon hanging by chains above the throne. Trisen felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder. It was now or never.

"Your reign of terror ends here, Lich King," Trisen yelled over the wind.

"You dare set foot in this place, traitor?" the Lich King sneered. He stood up from his throne and walked down the stairs. "And you, Tirion Fordring, how desperate you must be."

"The girl speaks the truth," Tirion said. "Your reign ends now."

The Lich King raised Frostmourne. Icy power blasted from the blade, encasing Tirion in ice. "I will deal with you, after I teach this traitorous knight a lesson."

Trisen tightened her grip on her axes. With a battle cry, she charged forward, blades at the ready. She swung her weapons at Arthas's chest. He deflected with his own sword. The area echoed with a resounding clash of metal on metal. Arrows, arcane blasts and fire balls flew through the air. Trisen could feel Yazzoo's healing spells fill her with energy.

"I raised you from the dead," the Lich King said. "I gave you new life. And, this is how you repay me?"

Trisen locked blades with her former king. "You stole me from my family. Warped me into an instrument of destruction. I was a noble warrior before you ripped me from my grave. I owe you nothing!" she screamed.

She was thrown backwards as Arthas blasted her back with a frost blast. She landed hard on her back. The Lich King's eyes glowed a deeper blue. Frostmourne began to pulse with a greater power.

"Then, I shall take that which you hold most dear," the Lich King said, raising his sword.

A mighty blast burst from Frostmourne's blade. Trisen covered her head in her arms. Pained screams echoed all around her. Trisen looked up just in time to see Traylon and the others collapse, lifeless. The Lich King turned his back, facing Tirion. He began to speak, but Trisen didn't hear what he was saying. Her eyes remained locked on Traylon's motionless face. Then, suddenly, dark energy began to flow from Frostmourne into his body. With sickening horror, Trisen knew what Arthas was doing. He was going to bring her family back as Death Knights.

Somewhere, she could hear ice shatter. However, she wasn't paying attention. Trisen grabbed her axes, shot to her feet and ran full tilt at Arthas's back. With a scream, she leapt into the air. The Lich King swung around, his blade striking Trisen in the chest. She collapsed to the ground in an ungraceful heap. She panted for breath, looking up to see Arthas stalk up towards her. The dark energy still seeped from Frostmourne's blade.

"This is how you repay your king?" the Lich King asked. "You live to serve me, girl."

"I serve the Horde," Trisen declared.

"If that is your wish," the Lich King said. "Now, you will witness the dark rebirth of my new army." He raised his sword.

"No!" Tirion yelled.

Trisen ducked as Ashbringer tore through Frostmourne, shattering it into fragments. The hilt fell to the ground as the shards scattered to the four winds.

"It ends here, Arthas," Tirion said, raising his sword. Golden energy flowed from the blade. "Arise, heroes. Your fight is not over yet."

There was a blinding flash of light. Trisen looked up when she heard a groan. Traylon pushed himself up, shaking his head. One by one the others began waking up as well.

"What happened?" Zorrion moaned, getting to his feet.

"That was unpleasant," Sairexanaris commented.

"Now, heroes!" Tirion called. "The Lich King...must...fall!"

As her family began firing off arrows and blasts of energy, Trisen snatched up her weapons and charged the Lich King again. Tirion had Arthas trapped in a cyclone of energy. Heavy boots slammed across the frozen ground. Blue eyes blazed with untamed anger and hatred.

"Now, Trisen!" Traylon shouted.

Trisen launched herself at Arthas, axes coming down, embedding deep into his chest plate. The Lich King roared in pain as the steel struck flesh. The cyclone dissipated and Trisen and Arthas fell to the ground. Traylon hurried over to his wife and helped her to stand. Trisen looked down at the motionless form of the Lich King. She reached down and pulled her axes out of Arthas's chest. Traylon led her over to where the others were waiting. However, they turned when they heard Arthas speak. The ghostly figure of his father knelt beside him.

"Only darkness...before...me," Arthas whispered with his last breath.

Trisen felt something stir inside her as Arthas's body went limp. She watched as Tirion picked up the crown.

"Tirion?" she asked.

"The burden...must be mine to bear," Tirion said.

"Tirion!" came a harsh yell from the throne. "You hold a grim destiny in your hands, Brother. But, it is not yours to bear."

Everyone turned to see Bolvar Fordragon sitting on the throne. Tirion stared at him in stunned shock.

"Bolvar?" he asked in disbelief. "By all that is holy. The dragon's flame..."

"Sealed my fate. The world of the living...can no longer comfort me," Fordragon finished, his voice a deep hiss.

Tirion walked up the stairs, staring at the man before him. Fordragon gazed up at him.

"Place the crown on my head, Tirion," he said. "Forevermore, I will be the chain of the damned."

"No, old friend," Tirion denied, turning his back. "I cannot."

"Do it, Tirion!" Fordragon commanded. "You and these brave heroes have your own destinies to fulfill. This last act of service...is mine."

Even from down below, Trisen could see the turmoil in Tirion's eyes. She knew the price that had to be paid. But, as Arthas's father had said, there must always be a Lich King. Tirion turned around to face Fordragon again. He held up the crown.

"You will not be forgotten, Brother," he said.

"I must be forgotten, Tirion," Bolvar declared. "If the world is to remain free from the tyranny of evil, they must not know what happened here, today."

Tirion nodded reluctantly. Slowly, he raised the crown as Bolvar bowed his head. Tirion slipped the crown over Fordragon's head. Almost instantly, the ground began to shake and the winds increased. Traylon and the others fought to keep standing up. They looked up to see two flaming eyes gazing out from behind the crown. Ice began to inch its way over the throne.

"Tell them only the Lich King is dead," Bolvar instructed. "And that Bolvar Fordragon...died with him."

With those final words, the ice completely encased the throne and Bolvar with it.

"Now, leave this place," the haunting, booming voice of the new Lich King ordered. "And, never return."

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	7. Chapter 6

Present day...

"I'm worried about Trisen," Traylon said. "She hasn't had a decent night's sleep in almost a month."

"I always thought Death Knights didn't sleep," Tomparis put in. "With their being dead and all."

"Watch your mouth, Tom," Rodonov snapped. "That's our sister you're talking about."

"Sister or not, it doesn't change the fact that she's dead," Tomparis pointed out.

Rodonov growled under his breath, tipping his drink glass to his lips. It was no secret that he hated being reminded of his sister's "condition". He and his brother had been reunited with their little sister after years of searching and countless dead ends. They had traveled across Azeroth chasing down leads about Trisen. From the Plaguelands to the Dark Portal.

The warlock and hunter brothers had almost given up hope of ever finding their sister. Until they met Traylon and his family during the zeppelin ride to Northrend. Trisen had been with them, unfortunately, she had no memory of them. Even now, after years of going through their younger years, Trisen still had little to no memory of her brothers.

"She's been having the same nightmare every night," Traylon continued.

"What's the nightmare?" Sairexanaris asked.

Traylon ran his finger around the rim of his glass. "Death Knights have gathered before the Lich King's throne. She walks through the crowd towards the front. Arthas sits on the throne and there's always a prisoner kneeling at the front."

"Who's the prisoner?" Yazzoo questioned.

Traylon shook his head. "It changes every night," he replied. "The first time it was Zorrion. The next it was Sai. Each night it's someone different." His eyes became haunted. "Last night it was me," he whispered.

"She fears being under the Lich King's control," Yazzoo mused.

"But, he's dead," Rodonov said. He looked around the table. "We were all there. We brought him down. Arthas is dead."

"And yet she claims she can still feel his presence in her mind," Traylon announced.

"Well, we don't know how a Death Knight thinks," Sairexanaris stated. "It's possible her claim is true. The Lich King was extremely powerful, his malice reached across Azeroth. Look at Lady Sylvanas."

"She wouldn't be the banshee queen if it wasn't for Arthas," Zorrion muttered.

"He touched all of our lives in some way," Sairexanaris said. He glanced at Rodonov and Tomparis. "Whether it was taking a loved one, or simply threatening our homes. We can't deny that Arthas was a fierce enemy. So, I wouldn't be surprised if Trisen still feels his presence."

"And she hasn't had an easy death," Tomparis added.

Rodonov looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it. She was a knight of death. She did whatever the Lich King told her to do. She was turned from a noble warrior who fought for honor and justice, to a cold blooded killer," Tomparis explained.

"Yes, but a lot of good has happened, too," Rodonov pointed out. "She was reunited with family, she redeemed herself in the eyes of the Horde by taking out the Lich King." He glanced over at Traylon. "She found love. Got married. I think that overshadows all the bad."

"But, it doesn't erase it," Tomparis said. "Maybe it's finally catching up to her."

"In any case, Tris needs help and she needs it soon," Traylon put in. "Or I fear something bad is going to happen."

Zorrion put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry, Tray. We'll find a way to help Tris," he promised.

"We need to prove to her that the Lich King is dead and that she has nothing to fear," Sairexanaris said.

"How?" Traylon asked. "We don't know what happened to Arthas's body after the battle."

"The Death Knights still loyal to him must have carried it off," Yazzoo commented, taking a sip of his drink.

"So, there goes that idea," Zorrion muttered.

"We'll think of something," Rodonov said. "We took out the Lich King. We literally died doing it. If we can't figure out a way to prove to Trisen that these nightmares are just her overactive mind playing tricks on her, than we might as well join the Alliance."

"That'll never happen," Traylon declared. "I can convince her."

"Got any ideas on how?" Sairexanaris asked.

"All she needs is a distraction," Traylon said. "Something to keep her mind focused." A small smile touched his lips. "We've started talking about adopting, since Trisen can't bear children. I think it's time to start the conversation up again."

* * *

The full moon hung high over Icecrown, dancing off the ice that still kept Bolvar Fordragon imprisoned. Heavy footsteps ascended the steps, a long shadow falling over the ice prison. Strong hands reached down and shattered the ice around the crown. The tall, haunting figure placed the crown on his head; eyes burning a cold blue. Frostmourne beckoned. The fragments cried out to be reunited once again.

The true Lich King had returned.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	8. Chapter 7

Thunder roared and lightning split the sky in two. Silvermoon was drenched in a heavy downpour. Traylon sat in his favorite chair, reading the latest addition to his growing library on arcane magic. Trisen had gone to bed hours ago, exhaustion finally catching up to her. Traylon hadn't been able to speak to her about adopting. He decided to wait until she was good and rested before he brought the topic up again.

Traylon put a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn, however it was too overpowering. He sighed and closed the book after marking the page he was on. He placed the book on a side table and stood up, heading for the bedroom. Trisen was out cold, snuggled under the blankets. Traylon stood over her, watching her sleep. Her golden blonde hair fell loose over her shoulder. He liked her better as a blonde than a brunette. So much had changed in the last ten years, some good, others bad. Traylon could still remember the day Trisen had confessed to him that she could never bear children. She had been heartbroken. She knew how much he had wanted a family, but she could never give him one. Traylon had told her that there were other ways of growing their family, and thus the adoption conversation was brought up.

Trisen stirred, but fell back to sleep shortly afterwards. Traylon smiled and began getting ready for bed. He took off his day robes and pulled on his night robes. Trisen often teased him about it. She would say that he was the only male she knew that wore a dress to bed.

Traylon pulled back his side of the sheets and climbed into bed. Trisen never stirred. The mage settled down and closed his eyes. He was just drifting off when he heard a fate whimper next to him. Traylon opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder. Trisen's face was twisted in discomfort. Another whimper emitted from her. Traylon sat up and shook his wife.

"Tris," he whispered. "Tris, wake up."

 _She was back in Icecrown. Standing before the throne of the Lich King. Her sword was clenched tightly in her right hand, frosty energy swirling around her left. Two prisoners knelt before her. A mage and a warlock, both males, both Blood Elves. The mage had raven black hair, the other red. They were beaten and bloody, shivering violently in the freezing cold. She felt like she knew these elves, but her memory failed her._

 _"Tris, please," the warlock gasped, his voice hoarse. "Don't do this."_

 _"Break free, Trisen," the mage pleaded. "You serve the Horde, now."_

 _Her eyes flashed. "I serve the Lich King," she snarled._

Traylon jumped out of bed and hurried to Trisen's side. Standing over her, he began shaking her. "Trisen, wake up," he called.

 _She placed her left hand against the blade of her sword. The icy energy infused with the steel. She raised the sword above her head._

 _"Trisen, please," the warlock begged._

"Trisen, wake up!" Traylon yelled as his wife thrashed in the bed.

 _"Do it," the Lich King commanded. "Prove your loyalty to me."_

 _The sword came down._

Trisen's eyes shot open. She saw someone standing over her. Face hidden in shadows, eyes glowing blue. Trisen reached under her pillow and pulled out the dagger she had underneath it. A scream of pain tore through the room. Trisen blinked, coming back to reality. She looked up to see Traylon standing over her, not Arthas. Her eyes moved downward to the dagger that she had embedded in her husband's stomach.

"Oh, gods," Trisen whimpered. Traylon stumbled back, hands going to his stomach. "Tray!" Trisen cried, shooting up out of bed. "Traylon!"

The mage collapsed against the bed, his blood staining the sheets red. He fell to the floor. Trisen ran to the dresser and pulled out a first aid kit. She opened it and grabbed a roll of heavy bandages. Hurrying back to Traylon, she dropped to her knees and began wrapping the wound, keeping the knife in place so it wouldn't move and cause more damage. When the wound was bandaged, Trisen helped Traylon to stand, making a beeline for the front door.

They walked out into the pouring rain, hurrying as fast as they could down the street to Yazzoo's house. Soaking wet and cold, Trisen banged her fist against the front door. Traylon was losing the fight, fading fast. Trisen banged on the door again. Footsteps sounded on the other side before the door opened. Yazzoo looked at his sister-in-law before his eyes fell on his brother.

"Get him inside," Yazzoo ordered desperately.

Trisen rushed inside and headed for the spare bedroom. With Yazzoo's help, she lowered an unconscious Traylon on to the bed. Trisen stepped back to let Yazzoo do his work. How could she have done this? How could she have harmed her own husband? Yazzoo carefully removed the dagger at the same time he cast a healing spell over his brother to keep him from bleeding to death.

"What happened?" the priest asked as he worked.

"I did this," Trisen whispered in anguish. "I woke up from a nightmare, but all I could see was the Lich King. It wasn't until I heard him scream that I realized I had stabbed Tray."

Yazzoo deepened the healing spell when he felt his brother slip. "Come on, Tray," he breathed. "Your fight's not over."

Trisen buried her face in her hands. "How could I have done such a thing?" she asked wretchedly.

"You weren't in your right mind, Tris," Yazzoo told her. "Anyone is liable to do something drastic when they're sleep deprived and half asleep. This wasn't your fault."

Trisen lowered her hands and walked over to the bed, kneeling down and running a hand through Traylon's hair.

"I'm so sorry, Tray," she whispered. "Please don't leave. I'll never live with myself if I knew I had killed you."

Yazzoo's hands glowed a deep gold. "He's not going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it," he said. "Besides, Tray's too stubborn to die."

Trisen put her forehead against Traylon's and closed her eyes. "Come back to me, love," she prayed.

The wound slowly healed over, fixing itself and not even leaving a scar. Yazzoo sat back on his knees and sighed, energy drained. They sat in silence, waiting and watching. Then, slowly, Traylon began to wince and moan. Trisen felt her hopes rising. Hazy green eyes gradually blinked open. Trisen and Yazzoo breathed a sigh of relief.

"Tray, I am so, so sorry," Trisen apologized, tears streaming down her face.

Traylon smiled and reached up, putting a lock of his wife's hair behind her ear. "It's not your fault," he whispered, his voice weak. "You were acting in self-defence. I scared you. It's as simple as that."

"But, if I wasn't having that nightmare, this wouldn't have happened," Trisen said.

"We can't control what we dream," Traylon replied. "Stop blaming yourself. Yaz fixed me up. The danger has passed."

Trisen leaned down and kissed him on the lips. "You're my world. I watched you die once, I don't think I could do that again."

"The danger is over," Traylon said. "We have to move on. I think we should consider adopting."

"You want to bring a child into our home? With me the way I am?" Trisen asked incredulously.

"A child might be just what you need to calm your mind," Yazzoo spoke up. "Help focus your thoughts on something else."

"We could travel to Orgrimmar and visit the orphanage there," Traylon added. "I'm sure there's a little boy or girl who would love to have you for a mother."

Trisen nodded reluctantly. "Alright," she agreed. "We can go as soon as you're on your feet again."

"Which should be tomorrow," Yazzoo said. "Never underestimate the power of a healer."

Traylon smiled. "Thanks, Yaz. We'd be lost without you."

Yazzoo smiled back, his ego inflating just a bit. "Yeah," he said. "You would."

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	9. Chapter 8

Raenus Shadowstorm stood at the base of the throne. He gazed up at his lord and master, the one, true Lich King. He watched as Arthas reclaimed his crown. Now, all that was left was to rebuild Frostmourne. The Lich King turned and began walking down the stairs towards him. His flaming blue eyes burned with anger and malice. Raenus understood his master's anger. It had been one of his own that had sought to kill him. A Death Knight, and one of his most loyal. But, she was now a traitor. No longer worthy of the title Death Knight.

Raenus bowed to one knee as the Lich King approached. He waited silently for his master's orders.

"Locate and return the fragments of Frostmourne," the Lich King commanded. "It is time the traitor be put in her place."

"As you command, master," Raenus said.

"Go now. Bring me the fragments so that I may reunite them into their true form," the Lich King ordered.

Raenus bowed and stood up, heading for the passageway into the citadel. He had waited for this day for years. The day when the Lich King would resume his reign. As he walked, Raenus thought back on the last few years.

 _He stood in the shadows, watching the battle before him. The Lich King was engaged with a small group of Blood Elves. Two were warlocks, two were hunters, one was a priest, another a mage. However, it was the knight that was locked in close combat with the Lich King had that Raenus' attention. He knew that fighting style anywhere. It was the frost Death Knight who had captured his interest back in Ebon Hold, the same frost Death Knight who had been by his side since they had both awakened from their cold, eternal slumber._

Trisen, _he thought, betrayal stabbing his still heart._ Why?

 _Then, the males were struck down. Falling lifeless at the Lich King's feet. Raenus almost rushed forward to congratulate his master. But, Trisen had charged, anger and hatred fueling her blades as she attacked Arthas again. Raenus could only watch helplessly as the Lich King was struck down by the small band. He waited until the throne room was clear before he hurried over to the Lich King's side._

 _Blood seeped from two deep gashes in his chest. Raenus put his fingers to Arthas's neck. He let out a shocked breath. He was still alive. The Death Knight lifted his master up, swinging one of Arthas's arms around his shoulders and started off towards the lower levels of the citadel. It was slow going, but Raenus finally managed to get to a secret passageway in the lower levels. He could hear his master's pained moans beside him._

 _"Hang on, my lord," Raenus said. "We're almost there."_

 _He pulled the axe on a statue and the wall opened up, revealing a hidden staircase leading downward. The Death Knight shifted Arthas and descended the stairs. His footsteps echoed down through the narrow passageway. Raenus panted for breath as he half dragged, half carried Arthas down the stairs. Seconds seemed like minutes as he slowly made his way downward._

 _Raenus breathed in relief as he finally set foot inside his private alcove. He made his way over to the bed that was nestled in the corner. Slowly and carefully, he lowered Arthas on to the bed. His master groaned in pain. Raenus began removing Arthas's armor. When the armor was off and the wound exposed, Raenus set to cleaning and mending the wound._

 _"Raenus," the hoarse voice of his master stilled his hand for a moment._

 _Raenus looked at Arthas's face. "Yes, my lord?" he asked._

 _Arthas opened his eyes and gazed up at him, his eyes were glazed over. "Where...is Frostmourne?" he gasped._

 _"Shattered, my lord," Raenus told him. "Tirion Fordring shattered it."_

 _"And...the champions? What is...their fate?"_

 _"Escaped, sire," Raenus replied. "Along with Trisen Stormrider."_

 _Rage flashed in Arthas's eyes. "Stormrider," he hissed. "She...will pay...for her treachery."_

 _"You must regain your strength first, my lord," Raenus said. "These wounds are deep and will take time to heal."_

 _Arthas reached up and placed a shaky hand on his shoulder. "You...must be...my eyes...and ears. At least...until I heal. Find me Stormrider...and her band. They...will suffer."_

 _Raenus bowed. "Your will is my life, my lord."_

 _Your will is my life,_ Raenus thought as he walked through the citadel, coming out of his memories.

First, he would bring his lord the fragments of Frostmourne, then he would aid in the destruction of the traitorous Trisen Stormrider and her brood. He had searched for years, and finally he had tracked her down. It burned him with rage that she had married a mage. A _mage_. She should have been wearing _his_ ring, not the ring of a mortal.

He would take great pleasure in boiling the mage's blood. No one stole his flame, not if they wanted to have the wrath of a blood Death Knight coming down on their head. Raenus began his search of the citadel. Frostmourne would be reborn. And then the full power of the Lich King would be unleashed unto the world once more.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	10. Chapter 9

She never thought she'd be back in Orgrimmar. It was just as cluttered and noisy as the first time she stumbled in through the gates. But, unlike the first time, no one threw stones at her, no one gave her wary glances. Some even wished her a good morning as she walked by. Trisen couldn't help but smile a little. She looked up at Traylon, her smile widening. His hair was pulled up in a half ponytail, the rest falling down over his shoulders. She wrapped her fingers around his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Traylon held her hand properly and entwined their fingers, smiling down at his wife.

They walked down The Drag towards the orphanage. When they stepped in through the door, all eyes turned to look at them. Most of them were Orc children, however, there was one child tucked away in the corner that caught the couple's attention. He was a little Blood Elf with long, golden blonde hair. He looked to be no more than two years old. He was playing with a toy dragon and paladin.

Trisen tugged Traylon over to the child and knelt down. The little boy made dragon noises, which sounded comical with his small high pitched voice. Traylon noticed that he was the only Blood Elf child in the house. The others were Orcs and Trolls with two or three goblin and Tauren children. Traylon watched Trisen interact with the small boy. He smiled and laughed at her as she picked up another paladin and began playing with him.

"I see you've met Thallon," the orphanage matron said, walking up.

Traylon smiled. "Yes, we have," he replied, watching his wife and the little boy play paladins against the dragon.

"His is a sad story," the matron spoke softly.

Trisen looked up. "Why's that?" she asked.

"His parents were killed by Death Knights," the matron answered, albeit with some difficulty.

"That's horrible," Trisen said, horrified.

The matron smiled as she looked at her. "It's nice to see that not all Death Knights are barbarians," she commented. Her smiled faded. "However, in a city made up mostly of Orcs, there aren't very many families wanting to adopt a Blood Elf child."

Trisen turned back to look at Thallon. He met her gaze with big, innocent, glowing green eyes. He gave her a wide, toothy grin. And then, he did something she never would have expected. He reached his arms out towards her and said one word.

"Minn'da," he said, waving his hands.

Trisen felt her world cave in. All that mattered was this little boy. She must have looked similar to his birth mother for him to call her mama. Trisen reached over and picked Thallon up in her arms, holding him close. Traylon smiled at the sight. He turned to the matron.

"I think Thallon has finally found his new home," he said.

The matron smiled and nodded. "I'll get the adoption papers ready," she told him before walking off towards her office.

Trisen stood up, still holding Thallon. Traylon stepped forward and ran a hand over the boy's head. They were soon called into the matron's office to sign the paperwork. Not since meeting Traylon had Trisen ever felt such love for another elf. But, this little soul had captured her heart the same way Traylon had all those years ago.

All the fear and anxiety she had felt over the last month was washed away. They seemed like a distant memory now. Thallon tugged on her ponytail, saying mama over and over again. Traylon and Trisen finished signing the paperwork and the matron saw them to the door.

"Thank you for giving Thallon a good home," she said. "He couldn't have gone to two more deserving Blood Elves."

"Thank you, so much," Trisen said, shifting Thallon in her arms.

"He's in good hands," Traylon promised.

The matron smiled. "I'm sure he is," she agreed. "Safe journeys."

The Lightwind couple bid the matron farewell and walked away. They had entered Orgrimmar as husband and wife, and now they were leaving as parents. When they were in the open, Traylon summoned a portal back to Silvermoon. Thallon's eyes widened as he beheld the sight.

"Pitty," he cooed. "Go."

Trisen chuckled. "Alright, little one. We'll go. It's time you saw your new home."

She took Traylon's hand and they walked through the portal, entering Silvermoon on the other side. Thallon looked around, wide eyed. It was so pretty, so many different colors and smells. It didn't smell like the other place with the funny looking green, blue and hairy elves. This place was full of elves like him. He wrapped his arms around his mama with the pretty blue eyes.

"Ready to go home, little one?" his papa with the black hair asked.

Thallon nodded. "Ome," he said.

* * *

Traylon and Trisen walked into their quaint little home. Everything seemed quiet until they walked into the living room. Someone jumped out at them. Traylon sent out a blast of arcane energy towards the would-be attacker.

"Whoa!" the entity cried, dodging to the side. "Hold the arcane, Tray! It's me!"

"Zor?" Traylon asked. "What the he-"

"Tray," Trisen interrupted. "Young ears?"

Traylon swallowed down his curse. "What are you doing?" he asked his brother.

Zorrion poked his head out from behind a chair. "I came to see the new young lord Lightwind," he said.

"You could have warned us," Traylon chastised.

"My bad," Zorrion said, holding up his hands.

Trisen chuckled. "You can come out, Zor," she told him. "Come meet your new nephew."

Zorrion didn't have to be told twice. He hurried out from behind the chair and over to where Trisen was standing. Thallon looked at the elf with the blonde hair. He looked like him.

"Hello, little one," Zorrion said with a smile. "My name is Zorrion."

"Zowie?" Thallon repeated.

Zorrion felt his heart flutter. He wasn't blood related to this little boy, but he was his nephew, nonetheless. He reached his hands out, which Thallon mirrored. Zorrion took the little elf in his arms and held him close.

"What's your name, little one?" the warlock asked.

"Tallon," Thallon announced with pride as he said his own name.

"That's a strong name," Zorrion said, bouncing the child in his arms. "You're going to be a strong warrior, or better yet, a paladin."

"I think it's a little early for that, Zor," Traylon said.

"It's never too early to think about a child's future, Tray," Zorrion replied matter-of-factly. He turned back to Thallon. "I have a friend who's a paladin. He can teach you everything there is to know about using a sword. He's probably the best paladin in Azeroth. And if not, at least the Eastern Kingdoms."

Traylon rolled his eyes. Trisen just laughed. Zorrion turned to face his brother and sister-in-law.

"By the way, while you two were in Org, the big bro and cousin helped me set up the little one's room. I think you'll find it suitable," he said.

While Zorrion entertained Thallon, Trisen and Traylon went to inspect their new son's room. Trisen let out a surprised gasp. The room was painted like the Eversong Woods. Dragonhawks soared across the ceiling. Blood Elves watched protectively from the trees.

Zorrion came into the room. "What do you think?" he asked, voice hopeful.

"Zor," Trisen breathed in awe. "This is...it's..."

She turned and wrapped her arms around her brother-in-law's neck, being mindful of Thallon still in Zorrion's arms.

"It's amazing, Zor," Traylon said.

"Effies," Thallon chimed, pointing to a Blood Elf paladin that stood in a protective stance beside the bed. "Pally."

Traylon smiled. "And I think Thallon likes it, too," he said with a chuckle.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	11. Chapter 10

Frostmourne's blade gleamed hungrily in the moonlight. The sword was reborn and back in the hands of its master. Raenus knelt before his master as the Lich King inspected the blade. His flaming blue eyes narrowed in thought. Raenus had done what he was asked. He had returned the fragments to his master as commanded. Now was the time of the true Lich King's return to the Frozen Throne.

The Lich King pointed the tip of Frostmourne at Raenus, but the Death Knight never flinched. He remained kneeling where he was, eyes lowered, gaze fixed on the Lich King's boots.

"Where is Stormrider?" the Lich King asked.

"Silvermoon City, my lord," Raenus immediately answered. "She is courted. Mated to a mortal Blood Elf mage."

"Then, that is where you must go," the Lich King instructed. "Bring me those she holds most dear. She will watch as her loved ones are ripped from her grasp."

Raenus bowed. "Your will is my life, my lord," he said.

"Go," the Lich King commanded. "And do not return until you have the mage."

Raenus bowed again and stood up, heading for the exit. Arthas watched as the Death Knight walked away. He held his sword up to eye level. Frostmourne was even more glorious in rebirth than when he had first picked it up. He ran his fingers over the glistening blade.

"Soon you will taste the blood of our enemies once again," Arthas told Frostmourne. "Stormrider will not escape us again. We will take that which she holds most dear, and she will watch as her precious mate is ripped from the living, and transformed into a knight of darkness. We will warp and twist him into an instrument of death and destruction. He will no longer know who she is. We will set him after her. He will be the one to send her back to her grave when he is finished."

Frostmourne pulsed with energy, as though it delighted in what its wielder was saying. The Lich King walked to the edge of the Froze Throne's platform and gazed out over Icecrown.

"Soon, my blade. We will have our revenge."

* * *

The small forge echoed with the sounds of a hammer against metal. Traylon stood in the doorway with Thallon playing with his paladins and dragons at his feet. Trisen was working hard on making a new sword. She had received an order from a vendor in Orgrimmar for a set of swords. A week in, she was finished one sword and was now working on the other.

Thallon had been a part of their lives for little over two weeks, and since then the nightmares had disappeared. Trisen was back to her happy, care-free self. It was amazing at what a child could do, even with them not knowing it.

Traylon turned when he heard footsteps approach the forge. A handsome Blood Elf paladin with long, golden blonde hair and shining armor walked up. He had a grand sword holstered at his side. His silver and gold armor glistened in the high noon sun. Thallon looked up at him with wide eyes before looking down at his paladin toy. The boy held the toy up towards the new Blood Elf.

"Pally," Thallon said.

"Hello, little one," the paladin greeted, kneeling down to the boy's level. "What do you have there?"

"Anar'alah belore, Solanlan," Traylon greeted.

"And you, my friend," the paladin said, standing up. "How have things been?"

"Busy," Traylon replied as Trisen continued to work.

"Little one keeping you busy?" Solanlan guessed.

"Very. He's very high energy," Traylon said.

Solanlan nodded. "Reminds me of a certain warlock brother of yours."

Traylon chuckled. "Yeah," he agreed.

"So, Sol," Trisen suddenly spoke as she quenched the blade. "When are we going to meet that Draenei you're always telling us about?"

Solanlan's face began to turn a light shade of red. "Why?" he asked.

Trisen lifted up the blade and inspected it. "I'm curious to meet him," she answered.

Traylon crossed his arms. "Yeah, Sol. When will we get to meet him?"

"How about...next week from never?" Solanlan said.

"That's no fair. I introduced you to Trisen," Traylon stated.

"But, she's a Blood Elf, regardless of her being dead...no offense," Solanlan added quickly.

"Quite used to it," Trisen told him, pounding away at the blade again.

"She is still a Blood Elf, and thus, a part of the Horde. Drakune, however, is a Draenei, and thus, Alliance. Do you have any idea what would happen if I brought him to Silvermoon?" Solanlan asked.

"A one way ticket to the Silvermoon Prison?" Traylon guessed.

"Sarcasm noted," Solanlan said flatly.

"He didn't say you had to bring him to Silvermoon, Sol," Trisen pointed out. "There's always Dalaran."

Solanlan swallowed thickly. "Well...I...don't think Drakune is ready for the whole, 'These are my friends whom I think of as my family' meeting, just yet," he explained.

Traylon smirked. "What's the matter, Sol? Afraid he might spill your deepest, darkest secrets?"

Thallon laughed, not knowing what the adults were talking about, but it sounded funny, nonetheless.

"Fly off before I shove my sword up your ass," Solanlan said.

"Sol, language," Trisen reminded him. "Innocent ears."

Thallon laughed again. He suddenly pitched a dragon toy at Solanlan's leg. He giggled as the plastic pinged off the plate armor.

"Pally," he said. "Pitty pally."

"Anyway, I just came by to say hi," Solanlan said. "I'm on my way to Undercity."

"Why Undercity?" Traylon asked.

"Trading business," Solanlan replied. "Should be back in a week or two."

Traylon nodded. "Alright. Al diel shala, my friend. See you when you get back."

Solanlan and Traylon shook hands. Trisen left her anvil and walked over to give the paladin a hug.

"Al diel shala, Sol. Have a good trip," she told him.

Solanlan returned the hug. "Keep yourselves safe, you two. I'll see you in two weeks."

He ruffled Thallon's hair and waved as he left the forge. Trisen and Traylon waved after him. Traylon wrapped an arm around Trisen's waist.

"Ya know, it's almost time for Thallon's nap, and you've been cooped up in the forge all day," he started, pulling her closer. "What do you say we...unwind?"

Trisen unwrapped her husband's arm from around her. "Get your mind out of the bedroom, Tray," she said. "I still have work to do."

She went back to the anvil where the blade sat waiting for her. Traylon followed, putting his arms around her once more and propping his chin on her shoulder.

"All work and no play makes Trissy a dull elf," he whispered in her ear.

"Trissy has to be a dull elf for the next few hours," Trisen told him. "I'm almost done this sword."

Traylon grinned. "Well, then. I shall be waiting in the chamber of love."

"The chamber of love? I think the heat's gone to your head, dear mage of mine," Trisen laughed.

Traylon kissed her on the cheek. "I got a laugh. That's all I care about."

Trisen playfully shoved him away. "Go. Shoo. I need to work. Have a father/son bonding moment with Thallon."

Traylon walked over and picked Thallon up in his arms. "Come on, little one. Minn'da's gotta work. And she can't work with us bothering her."

Thallon waved at Trisen. "Bye, Minn'da," he said.

Trisen waved back. "See you soon, Thallon."

As her husband and son left the forge, Trisen went back to her work with a smile touching her lips.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	12. Chapter 11

Traylon tucked Thallon in bed for his nap, kissing the boy on the top of his head. Thallon began to fuss, but Traylon eased him into slumber. When Thallon was asleep, Traylon headed into the master bedroom, putting a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn. He lay down on the bed and sighed sleepily. Hopefully Trisen would finish up soon and then they could have some alone time while Thallon was asleep. Traylon closed his eyes and was soon overtaken by exhaustion.

Outside, a lone Blood Elf stood across the street, watching the house. His raven black hair fanned out like falcon wings on either side of his head, while the rest fell down over his shoulders. He ran his fingers over his goatee, eyes scanning the street. When he was certain no one would walk by, he approached the house and tested the door handle. He grinned slightly. Unlocked. He twisted the handle and quietly pushed the door open.

The house was quiet, save for the snoring that was coming from the main bedroom. Raenus closed the door and made his way down the hall. He peeked into the spare room, his blood boiling instantly. A small child rested in the bed. He stared at the boy for a long while. That child should have been his. He would take great pleasure in watching the Lich King tear the mage in two.

Raenus's attention was brought to something at the end of the hallway. Said mage was standing in the bedroom doorway, his green eyes wide and glowing with fear and anger.

"Who are you?" the mage demanded, hands bursting into an impressive array of arcane energy.

"Your end," Raenus replied, lifting a hand.

The mage started forward, but suddenly dropped to his knees with a cry of pain.

"Blood Boil," Raenus said. "Drops them every time."

The mage fell to the floor, writhing in pain. He strained to look up. "You...bastard..."

The pain finally grew too great and the mage collapsed, unconscious. Raenus lowered his hand and sneered. He walked into the room and picked the boy up in his arms. The child didn't stir. The Death Knight then went back out into the hallway, opened a portal back to Icecrown and reached down to grab the front of the mage's robes.

"I will see you in Icecrown, Trisen," Raenus said.

He walked through the portal, dragging the mage behind him. As soon as they were through, the portal sealed, leaving an empty, quiet house in its wake.

* * *

Trisen walked into the house, covered in soot and sweat from working all day in the forge. She was surprised to hear the house quiet, wondering if Traylon had taken a nap as well. She checked the bedrooms. Neither Thallon nor Traylon were in bed. She paused and inhaled. There was something odd in the air. A strange, foreboding scent. It smelled like Traylon, but with a hint of a burnt smell.

Trisen hurried out of the house, heading down the street towards Zorrion's. She knocked on the door and waited. A minute later, the door opened and Zorrion appeared.

"What's up, sis-in-law?" the warlock asked.

"Zor, are Tray and Thallon here?" Trisen asked.

Zorrion shook his head. "No," he replied. "Tray said he was spending the day with you. Why?"

Trisen ran her fingers through her hair. "Just wondering," she said before walking away.

"Tris?" Zorrion called after her. He closed the door and hurried after her. "Tris, wait up."

He followed his sister-in-law further down the street to Yazzoo's. When the priest answered the door, Trisen asked if Traylon and Thallon were with him. When Yazzoo denied it, the look of horror that washed over Trisen's face told the brothers that something was seriously wrong.

"Tris, what is it? What's wrong?" Yazzoo asked.

"They're gone," Trisen breathed in terror. "Tray and Thallon are gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" Zorrion pressed.

"Blood Boil," Trisen told him. "I sensed Blood Boil."

"Where?" Yazzoo wanted to know.

"Home," was the answer.

Zorrion frowned in confusion. "What's Blood Boil?" he questioned, not really wanting to know the answer.

"It's a powerful spell blood Death Knights wield," Trisen explained. She gasped and put her hands over her mouth. "Oh, gods, he didn't."

"What?" Yazzoo asked.

Trisen looked up at him. "Raenus Shadowstorm," she said. "I guess you could say we were a thing back in Ebon Hold. However, he stayed by the Lich King's side while I followed the others and renewed my loyalties to the Horde." She shook her head. "Raenus was always the jealous type. He was strong, powerful, and he knew it. He was arrogant, self-centered."

"So, how did you end up with a guy like that?" Yazzoo asked for clarification.

"I was in the same mindset back then," Trisen told him.

"I don't know that guy, but I hate that guy," Zorrion declared.

"And, you think he's taken Tray and Thallon?" Yazzoo guessed.

"I know he has," Trisen said. "And, if we don't find them soon, we'll never see them alive, again."

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	13. Chapter 12

Arthas gazed down at the small child held tightly in Raenus's arms. The mage had been placed up against a wall. He was still unconscious from whatever spell Raenus had cast on him. However, he would get to the mage in a minute. It was the presence of the child that had Arthas confused, and by the way Raenus was holding him, it seemed the Death Knight had grown a soft side.

"What is this?" the Lich King asked, demanding an explanation, pointing at the child.

"You instructed me to bring you those Stormrider holds most dear," Raenus explained. "These are the ones. There are no others."

Though as heartless as he was, Arthas was not in the business of harming children. The boy was of no threat to him, so why did Raenus bring him? Unless the Death Knight had another reason. Arthas studied his soldier closely.

"What is your wish, Raenus?" he asked.

Raenus frowned in confusion. "My lord?"

"I cannot do anything with a fragile soul such as this," the Lich King said. "What is your wish?"

Raenus felt his dead heart stir. Was his master asking him what he wanted to do with the child?

"I thought...perhaps...he would be a servant to you, my lord," Raenus explained. "With your blessing I would like to train him, mold him to be a powerful weapon to serve you. And...perhaps...serve better as one of your own Death Knights."

And there it was. However, Arthas couldn't deny the lure of the idea. It would hit Stormrider even harder to have her own son turned against her, as well as her mate. He nodded.

"Very well. You may train him," the Lich King said. "And, when the time is right, he shall join us in undeath."

Raenus bowed. "Yes, my lord. Thank you, master."

"Go, now. We have preparations to attend to," the Lich King said.

Raenus bowed deeply and hurried off with the boy still in his arms. Arthas turned to look at the mage. He smiled darkly as Frostmourne began to pulse with dark energy. He was going to have fun breaking this Blood Elf.

* * *

Traylon stumbled back as he was struck by a damaging blow. He toppled to the ground, staff rolling off to one side. He groaned as he pushed himself up, panting for breath. The mage looked up to see Raenus stalk up towards him.

"Get up, mage," Raenus snapped, spitting out the title like it was poison.

Traylon struggled to his feet, his legs shaking and refusing to bear his weight. His body shook violently from the cold. His fingers were numb, he couldn't feel his hands anymore. His tattered robes did little to keep the frigid cold out. Raenus spun his sword and swung it in an arch. Traylon barely managed to dodge, his movements impeded by the cold. He winced as he felt the kiss of cold steel against his back as the blade sliced through what remained of his robes.

He didn't know where Thallon was, or if he was even still alive. He turned to look at Arthas, who was watching from a makeshift throne atop a plateau.

"Where's my son, you bastard?" Traylon yelled as loud as his hoarse voice would allow.

The Lich King smiled in amusement. "He is safe. For now. However, your main concern would be to avoid getting impaled by my knight's blade."

Raenus slammed the butt of his sword's hilt in Traylon's temple. The mage, caught off guard, lost his balance and crumpled to the ground again. The snow burned the lacerations on his body. The wounds that had drawn blood had already begun to freeze over. Traylon gasped in pain, from both the wounds and the cold.

"You stole Trisen from me," Raenus snarled, his voice so low only Traylon could hear. He walked over and kicked the mage in the stomach, sending him flying. "That boy was supposed to be _my_ child. She was supposed to wear _my_ ring. Not the ring of some... _mage_ ," he spat venomously. "You don't deserve her. She's an instrument of power. You deal with enemies from a distance. You're no warrior, you're a coward; leaving the danger to others."

Traylon yelled in rage and fired off an arcane blast. Raenus easily deflected the weak attack with his sword. The blast hit a wall off to the side. Energy spent, Traylon collapsed to the ground. His breath was raspy and laboured. He was losing the fight, in more ways than one. Was anyone looking for him? Surely Trisen knew he was gone, by now. He closed his eyes, clenching his hands into fists. She would be looking. She wouldn't rest until he and Thallon were found.

Traylon looked up, eyes watering and burning as the tears began to freeze. "She'll find me," he whispered. "She'll come, and mercy will be the last thing on her mind."

Raenus grabbed the back of his hair and yanked Traylon's head up. "I'm counting on it," he snarled.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	14. Chapter 13

Yazzoo was woken up by a terrified screech coming from somewhere in the house. The priest shot up out of bed, the scream sounding again. He pushed back the blankets and rushed out of the room. Sairexanaris came out of the room across from his. They headed down the hall and into the spare bedroom where Zorrion was staying. The youngest was thrashing about in bed. Yazzoo hurried over to the bed and grabbed his brother's shoulders.

"Zor! Zor! Zorrion, wake up!" Yazzoo yelled.

Zorrion's eyes snapped open and he shot up in bed, eyes wide and fearful. Yazzoo fell back in surprise. His little brother looked around the room until his gaze fell on him.

"Yazzy?" Zorrion gasped.

A low growl made the brothers and cousin turn. Zorrion's voidwalker hovered in the doorway, its glowing eyes narrowed in a protective manner. Its ether body was tense, ready to protect its master.

"It's okay, Hathmon," Zorrion said. "Everything's okay. There's no danger."

He waved his hand and the voidwalker disappeared back into the void. Zorrion sighed heavily and hung his head. Yazzoo sat down on the bed.

"The nightmare again?" he asked.

Zorrion nodded. "We have to find Tray," he said. "I can't take much more."

Sairexanaris put a hand on his cousin's shoulder. "We'll find him, Zor. I promise. Trisen is in Archeus looking for leads. We'll find him and Thallon."

"I keep dreaming that the Lich King turns Tray into a Death Knight after brutally torturing him," Zorrion said. He wiped tears from his eyes. "They've been missing for a week, now. What if we find them and we're too late?"

Yazzoo took a hold of his shoulders. "Zor, we'll find him, and we'll be on time. That I can promise you."

* * *

Trisen leaned on the edge of the railing overlooking the Plaguelands. It had been many years since she had set foot in the Ebon Hold. But, she had no choice, she had to know what had happened to her husband and son. She turned around when she heard footsteps approaching from behind her. Darion Mograine walked up to her. Trisen turned to face him fully.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

Darion nodded solemnly. "It is as you fear. We have received word that Raenus Shadowstorm is active in Icecrown," he said. "There is also some...worse news."

Trisen swallowed nervously. "What's worse?"

"We have also been told that...the Lich King...Arthas Menethil...has returned," Darion explained.

"What?" Trisen whispered in horror and terror. "That's impossible. Arthas is dead."

"I would not lie to you, Trisen," Darion told her. "Arthas has returned."

"Then, that means..." Trisen's breath caught in her throat. "Arthas has Traylon and Thallon."

"Then, they are no longer among the living," Darion stated grimly. "Arthas is driven by revenge, and you and your group sought to destroy him. He would not take kindly to such an act of treachery."

Trisen looked up at him, her eyes determined. "You don't know Traylon like I do. He's not one to die so easily."

"Trisen," Darion spoke softly, despite his echoing voice. "This is Arthas Menethil. The Lich King."

"Bolvar Fordragon is the Lich King, now," Trisen declared.

"You delude yourself," Darion said.

"So be it. But, my family is in danger, and now I know where they are," Trisen said. "I will gather my men and I will bring my husband and son home."

Darion sighed and shook his head. "Then, I can only wish you good luck."

Trisen's eyes flashed with quiet rage. "It's Arthas who needs the luck," she sneered. "When I see him, I won't make the mistake of going for his heart."

She opened up a Death Gate and stepped towards it.

"If you will not go for his heart, what will you go for?" Darion asked.

Trisen paused and looked over her shoulder. "I'm going to take his head," she snarled.

* * *

Yazzoo paced around the living room, hands clasped behind his back, eyes locked on the floor. Sairexanaris stood up against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze on his priest cousin. They had been able to coax Zorrion back to sleep with a sleeping draught, but depending on how severe his brother's nightmares were, Yazzoo doubted the draught would hold. He ran his hands over his face, sighing heavily. Where was Trisen? She should have been back by now. Every minute they spent idling, the longer it would take getting to Traylon and Thallon.

Yazzoo and Sairexanaris looked up when they heard what sounded like a growl coming from the hearth. They turned to see a Death Gate open up in the middle of the room. Trisen walked out into the room, her eyes blazing. Yazzoo felt his heart flutter from the look of hatred in his sister-in-law's eyes.

"What is it? Did you find anything?" he asked.

"Arthas is back," Trisen told him.

"What?" Yazzoo exclaimed.

"Arthas is back?" Zorrion's voice sounded from behind him.

"What's the plan?" Sairexanaris asked.

Trisen clenched her fists. "Gear up, boys. We're going to Icecrown," she said.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	15. Chapter 14

The pick tumbled to the ground from limp hands. Traylon bent down to retrieve it, but his fingers were so stiff and numb from the cold that he could hardly bend them. Weak and shivering from the cold, the mage sank to his knees, curling in on himself to try and warm himself up. All he wore was a tattered brown tunic and thin brown leggings. He wore no cloak, shoes or gloves. He remembered saving slaves in the Pit of Saron, but he never imagined he would end up a slave himself.

"Get up, little one," a Draenei urged quietly.

"I-I c-can't," Traylon stammered.

The Draenei looked over his shoulder to see a jailor making its way towards them. He knelt down and grabbed Traylon's shoulders, pulling him to his feet. The Draenei then retrieved the pick and placed it in the mage's hands.

"Make it look like you're working," he whispered in Traylon's ear before going back to work.

Holding the pick with both hands, Traylon chiseled away at the rock wall.

 _"The Lich King's eyes are upon you,"_ he could hear Arthas whisper in his mind.

Traylon coughed as his breath caught in his throat. Again, the pick fell from his hands as he was sent into a violent coughing fit. The Draenei and other slaves turned to look at him. Traylon collapsed to his knees, hacking and coughing, fighting for breath. The frigid air burned his lungs.

"Get up, little Blood Elf. Get up," the Draenei said with urgency.

Traylon knew what this was. It was the Lich King's attempt to break him. And though his spirit was strong, his body was weak. He had lost all sense of time, and he began doubting that anyone was even looking for him. He knew Trisen wouldn't abandon him, neither would his family. However, the cold was clouding his judgement, the physical labour slowly eating at his spirit. The Lich King was trying to break him.

And, he was winning.

* * *

Sairexanaris drummed his fingers against his arm, green eyes staring forward. Warsong Hold was approaching, but not fast enough. Two more weeks were lost in their campaign to rescue Traylon and Thallon. Two weeks they would never get back. The longer they idled, the closer they were to losing two innocent souls.

"As soon as we land we should make due haste for Icecrown," Solanlan suggested, walking up to the hunter.

"We don't even know where in Icecrown they are," Sairexanaris stated grimly.

"We'll search the entire citadel if we have to," Yazzoo said as he and Zorrion walked up. "But, we're bringing them home."

Solanlan turned to look at the priest. "How's Trisen?" he asked.

"Preparing herself," Yazzoo answered. "Hoping for the best, preparing for the worst."

The paladin nodded. "Like we all must do," he said.

Zorrion cast his eyes downward, his shoulders drooping. Sairexanaris went over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"We're going to find them, Zor," he vowed. "We're going to find them."

"Yeah," a voice said from behind. "No one messes with our brother-in-law and gets away with it."

The others turned to see Rodonov and Tomparis standing behind them. Trisen approached, her eyes burning with determination and rage.

"What's the plan?" Solanlan asked.

"When we dock, we fly for Icecrown," Trisen explained. "We tear that place apart until we find Traylon and Thallon. Rodonov and Tomparis will search for Thallon, the rest of us will locate Tray. We'll meet back in Dalaran when we have them."

The others nodded in agreement. Soon, the zeppelin was docking at Warsong Hold. They approached the flight master and took flight for Dalaran. When they reached the floating city they mounted up and headed for Icecrown. The citadel loomed in the distance, a haunting reminder of a past that should have been forgotten. Trisen stared ahead, gaze determined. Somewhere within those walls was her husband and son. She would bring them home. And if she saw Arthas, she would cleave his head from his shoulders for ever thinking about bringing harm to her family.

* * *

Traylon cried out in pain as a jailor slapped a whip across his back. The snow covered rocks were stained with blood. The other slaves stood back and watched, all too scared to stand up and fight. Traylon tried to crawl away, but the whip was only brought down harder. Another cry caught in his throat, choking him.

"Where is your sharp tongue, now, mage?" the jailor mocked. "There are slaves here tougher than you."

Traylon's hands instinctively lit up with arcane power, but he was so cold and weak that it quickly fizzled out. He fell to the ground, energy spent, breath coming out in ragged, laboured gasps. This was it. He was going to die here. Alone and forgotten. Traylon curled into a ball.

Arthas had won.

* * *

"Where's my family, bastard?" Trisen screeched as she held a guard by the front of his tunic.

The Death Knight laughed, his echoing voice boiling Trisen's blood even more. "They're probably dead, by now," he said, tauntingly.

"Liar!" Zorrion yelled, his hands igniting with blazing flames.

Solanlan held up his hand. "Calm yourself, Zorrion," the paladin advised. "He will tell us what we wish to know."

The guard laughed again. "You fool yourself, paladin," he spat. "Torture me all you want. I will never betray the Lich King."

"He has a child," Trisen hissed.

"What use would the Lich King have for a child?" the guard asked.

"He's right," Yazzoo said. "Arthas has no use for Thallon. Which means Shadowstorm must have him."

"So, where's Tray?" Sairexanaris asked.

Trisen stared deep into the guard's eyes as if searching his thoughts. She saw something in those soulless orbs that she never wanted to see. And then, it hit her. Where would Arthas keep the one he was trying to break?

"He's in the Pit," Trisen breathed.

The guard smirked darkly. "You're smarter than you look," he commented. "Very good."

"The Pit of Saron?" Sairexanaris asked for clarification.

"There's no other Pit in the citadel," Trisen told him. "Traylon must be there."

"If he's not dead, by now," the guard put in.

"Shut up," Trisen snapped. "He's still alive. I can sense his power, or what's left of it. What have you monsters done to him?"

The guard chuckled. " _You_ are calling _me_ a monster? Look in a mirror, lately, Stormrider? You were one of the Lich King's most loyal Death Knights. You did whatever he told you."

"My will was not my own, then," Trisen said. "But, now, I serve the Horde. I am the Lich King's puppet no more."

"It matters not to me," the guard replied. "And even if your warlock and hunter friends find your little boy, you're too late in saving your precious mate. All break in the Pit. Your mage is no different."

"Why you-"

Trisen fell back as a Chaos Bolt tore the guard from her grasp. He fell lifeless to the floor. Everyone turned to see Zorrion trembling with uncharacteristic rage.

"We know where Tray is," the warlock said. "And, I'll Chaos Bolt every last bastard who gets in our way."

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	16. Chapter 15

Tomparis let an arrow fly into a wraith. He and Rodonov had been searching for the last two hours. His wolf, armed with the scent of Thallon from a piece of the boy's clothing, had led them through the twisting edifice. The wolf was now sniffing around a wall with two statues standing up against it. They were in the very lower depths of the citadel.

Rodonov looked around the small, cramped chamber. "Why would he lead us here?" he asked.

Tomparis shrugged. "Hell if I know," he replied. "This must be where the scent is coming from."

The wolf scratched at the wall in between the two statues and began to whine. Tomparis went over and scratched behind the wolf's ears.

"What's the matter, boy?" he asked.

The wolf continued to scratch and whine. Rodonov went over and inspected the statues. There was nothing special about them.

"Why here?" he whispered.

He reached up and experimentally pulled the weapon on one of the statues. The brothers fell back as the wall slid to one side, revealing a narrow passageway leading downward. The wolf took off down the staircase. The brothers quickly followed suit. They soon entered a small room at the bottom. And it was there that they were greeted with the most pleasant of sights.

Thallon was fast asleep in the bed. His thumb stuck in his mouth and wrapped in a warm blanket. Rodonov hurried over and knelt down beside the bed. He ran his fingers through his nephew's long hair.

"Thallon. Wake up, buddy," the warlock coaxed.

Thallon stirred and blinked his eyes open. When he saw Rodonov and Tomparis, his face lit up in a bright grin. He held his arms up towards his warlock uncle.

"Oddy," he said.

Rodonov pulled the blanket around Thallon and picked the boy up. At that moment, footsteps echoed down the passageway. The brothers turned to see a Death Knight, whom they could only assume was Raenus Shadowstorm standing in the way.

"How did you find this place?" the Death Knight demanded, drawing his sword.

"Bane, kill," Tomparis commanded.

The wolf growled and struck, taking the Death Knight by surprise. The brothers were able to get around him and up the stairs. Bane jumped off the knight and ran after his master.

"You will not escape!" the voice of the Death Knight rang up after them.

"All we need to do now is get out and get to Dalaran," Tomparis said.

"Yeah. How hard can that be?" Rodonov asked.

* * *

Duskcoat buried his fangs deep into the neck of a proto-drake. Its rider fell from its back with an arrow embedded in his chest. Solanlan cut down a swarm of skeleton labourers in one swing. Trisen and Zorrion searched the faces of the slaves, looking for Traylon. Zorrion felt his hopes draining the more he searched. His brother had to be here...somewhere. He just had to.

"Tray!" Zorrion called. "Traylon, where are you?"

Yazzoo looked around. He, too, was feeling the mood dampening effects of what seemed to be a fruitless search.

"By all that is holy, Tray, where are you?" the priest whispered to himself.

"Excuse me?" someone said.

Trisen turned to see a Draenei standing behind her. "Yes?" she asked, her guard going up.

"Are you looking for a Blood Elf mage?" the Draenei asked.

"Yes," Trisen replied, her voice urgent. "Have you seen him? Where is he?"

The Draenei gave her a down cast look. "I fear you are too late, little Death Knight," he said. "He was taken to the Lich King."

"What?!" Zorrion all but screamed.

"Where?" Solanlan pressed.

"At the summit. Where the Scourgelord used to reside," the Draenei answered.

Trisen thanked the Draenei for his help and the group rushed off to find Traylon. They hurried through the cavern to the top. There they found Arthas standing over a beaten, bloody and broken Traylon. The Lich King raised Frostmourne above his head. Before anyone could blink, Solanlan had crossed the gap and slammed his sword against Frostmourne.

The others rushed forward. As Solanlan, Trisen and Sairexanaris took on the Lich King, Yazzoo and Zorrion hurried to their brother's side. Traylon never moved, never acknowledged their presence.

"Tray?" Zorrion asked. "Tray?"

Traylon slowly looked up, his once vibrate green eyes were dull and lifeless. He stared at the faces of his brothers, but it never registered that they were really there. He bowed his head again, closing his eyes.

"Traylon, what's wrong?" Yazzoo asked.

"Death becomes me," Traylon whispered.

"Don't say that!" Zorrion cried. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Tray, look at me," Yazzoo instructed.

His brother did as he was told. Yazzoo's heart shattered from the look. There was nothing of the old Traylon left. Whatever Arthas had tried to do, he had succeeded.

"Tray, you have to listen to me," Yazzoo spoke calmly and evenly. "We're here. Your family is here. We're bringing you home."

"I am home," Traylon said, his voice dull and flat. "I will be reborn a servant to the Lich King, and the pain will be gone."

"And where does that leave us?" Yazzoo asked. "Your brothers? Your cousin? Your friend? Your _wife_? What about Thallon? What father figure will he have if you're dead?"

"Any day now would be nice," Solanlan called out, dodging a swing from Frostmourne.

A little bit of spark came back to Traylon's eyes at the mention of Thallon's name. Yazzoo and Zorrion saw the spark and fought to fan it.

"Trisen has searched endlessly to find you," Zorrion said. "She never stopped looking. Neither of us did."

The spark began to fan into a flame. The life started to return in Traylon's eyes. He looked up at his brothers as if seeing them for the first time.

"Yaz? Zor?" he breathed, almost in disbelief.

"Yeah, Tray," Yazzoo said, a smile growing on his lips. "We're here. We've found you."

Traylon fell against his eldest brother and broke down into uncontrollable sobs. Yazzoo and Zorrion held their brother close. However, their brotherly bonding moment was interrupted when a yell from the Lich King echoed through the Pit. Trisen turned to the brothers.

"Get him out of here, _now_!" she screamed.

"Alright, little brother, still got some juice left in ya?" Yazzoo asked, taking Traylon in his arms.

"I can try," Traylon said.

"Good. Teleport to Dalaran would be nice," Yazzoo told him.

"What about the others?" Traylon asked in worry.

"Go!" Solanlan, Trisen and Sairexanaris yelled.

"You heard them," Zorrion said.

Traylon concentrated hard and his hands began to glow with arcane energy. The last thing he saw was Trisen flying towards the Lich King before everything disappeared in a blinding flash of light.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	17. Chapter 16

The Pit of Saron rang with the sounds of metal on metal. Duskcoat scratched and clawed at the Lich King's armor, but to no avail. Trisen and Solanlan battled in close combat while Sairexanaris fired off arrow after arrow. The Lich King roared and swung his sword in a downward arch. Trisen and Solanlan were thrown back, landing a few feet away. That's when they heard a blood curdling scream of pain. The friends turned to see Sairexanaris on his knees, his hands to the right side of his face. Blood poured from in between his fingers.

"Sai!" Solanlan cried, scrambling to his feet and over to his friend.

"My eye," Sairexanaris groaned. "My eye."

"Bastard!" Trisen screeched as she threw herself at Arthas, axes posed to strike.

"I will have my vengeance," the Lich King declared. "One way or another. If I cannot have the mage, then I will have the hunter and paladin."

Trisen slammed her axes into Frostmourne's blade. The blast of energy meant for her friends was directed upward. Solanlan wrapped Sairexanaris's right eye in a thick, heavy bandage. With the cold, the blood was already beginning to clot.

"Can you still fight?" the paladin asked.

The hunter picked up his bow. "Until my last breath," he replied.

Solanlan smiled and nodded. He picked up his sword and rushed to help Trisen. The Lich King had her pinned to the ground, one foot on her chest. He had his sword raised about his head.

"No!" Solanlan roared, leaping into the air.

He swung his sword down at the same time Arthas moved his. Trisen closed her eyes as Frostmourne shattered. The fragments scattered to the four winds.

"Never again, Arthas," Solanlan said.

Trisen scrambled to her feet as Solanlan brought the Lich King to his knees. Arthas suddenly lashed out, going for Trisen. She brought her axes down against the back of his neck. The Lich King's body fell with a thud to the ground, his head rolled to one side, crown still attached.

"That's lucky," Sairexanaris commented.

"How so?" Solanlan asked.

"I was on my last arrow," the hunter replied.

Trisen laughed, despite the situation. She holstered her axes and bent down, taking a hold of the crown. When she lifted it up, Arthas's head fell out. Her stomach lurched. Well, she did vow to cleave his head from his shoulders. Sairexanaris stumbled his way over to them, using his bow as a walking stick. Duskcoat never left his side.

"Now what?" he asked.

"We give the crown back to its rightful owner," Trisen replied.

"And, what about him?" Solanlan asked, pointing towards the cave.

Trisen turned to see Raenus standing in the mouth of the cave. "He's no threat. Let him bury his master. Our business here is done."

The small group of three left the Pit and headed for the summit of the citadel. Solanlan and Sairexanaris waited down below as Trisen walked up the steps and placed the crown back on Bolvar Fordragon's head. The ice that had been shattered closed in when the crown was back where it belonged. Trisen headed back down to where her friends were waiting.

"You okay, Tris?" Sairexanaris asked.

Trisen nodded. "Yes, Sai. I am." She smiled. "The nightmare is finally over."

* * *

Traylon cried out in his sleep, tossing and turning in bed. Zorrion stood in the doorway of the room, watching his brother. They were in the Healer's Pavilion in Dalaran, and even though Traylon had been fully healed physically, his mental state had yet to recover. Yazzoo said that Traylon might never be the same again. Arthas had pushed him over the edge. All they could do was wait and see what happened.

Zorrion hoped Arthas was dead. He deserved nothing less for what he did to his brother. Traylon continued to whimper in his sleep, curling into a ball and shivering. Zorrion walked over to the bed and saw down in a chair next to it, taking Traylon's hand in his. The familiar touch seemed to calm the distressed mage down. Footsteps shuffled into the room. Zorrion looked up to see Yazzoo enter.

"Are they back?" the youngest asked.

Yazzoo nodded. "They got back not too long ago," he replied.

"Is he...?"

Trisen suddenly appeared in the doorway. She held Thallon in her arms. Trisen hurried over to the bed.

"Tray," she breathed in relief, kissing the top of his head. "How is he?"

"Fighting nightmares," Yazzoo told her. "Which is to be expected. He was captive for a month."

Thallon reached out towards Traylon. Trisen gently lowered him on to her husband's chest. Thallon cuddled into his father and Traylon put an arm around him protectively.

"How's Sai?" Yazzoo asked.

"The healers couldn't save his eye," Trisen explained solemnly. "They had to remove it."

Yazzoo nodded in understanding. At that moment, Rodonov, Tomparis, Solanlan and Sairexanaris walked into the room. Sairexanaris had a patch covering his empty right eye socket. Zorrion pointed to the patch.

"That's a good look for you, Sai," he commented. "Gives you that air of mystery. It'll certainly drive the girls crazy."

Sairexanaris rolled his remaining eye. "Yes, because that was my reason for getting my eye ripped out of the socket," he said.

Solanlan chuckled. "Leave him be, Zor. We all need some time to ourselves after this whole ordeal. Perhaps a relaxing trip to Thunder Bluff is in order."

"Moo cows," Thallon called out excitedly.

Traylon reached up and ruffled his son's hair. "Indeed, little one," he said. "A trip to Thunder Bluff sounds nice."

Trisen put a hand on her husband's arm. "When you're good and able, dear mage of mine," she said.

Traylon took her hand and kissed it. "I am good and able, now, little Death Knight," he assured her.

"Moo cows," Thallon declared again.

Trisen picked him up. "If that is your wish, dear husband."

"Been a while since someone said that to me," Traylon said. He smiled. "It's nice."

Trisen leaned down and kissed him on the lips. "Whatever you desire, Archmage. It shall be yours."

Traylon grinned slyly. "Whatever I desire?" he asked, pulling her closer. "I can think of a few things."

"Guys? Other people?" Zorrion said.

"I think we should leave them alone," Solanlan said with a smile.

The others left the room, leaving the family of three alone to have some time together. Trisen sat down on the bed, putting Thallon on the bed next to Traylon. She lay down and put her head on Traylon's chest. To be here with him, to hear his heart beating, to feel him breathing, it was nothing short of a miracle. And with Arthas finally dead and buried where he belonged, nothing could ruin this moment.

"I love you, Tray," Trisen whispered.

"I love you, too, Tris," Traylon answered.

"For now and always," they finished in unison.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	18. epilogue

Two years later...

Trisen was woken up by the sound of a terrified cry. She shot up in bed, looking around. Traylon was sitting up in bed, eyes wide with fear.

"Tray?" Trisen asked, no daring to touch him in fear of him lashing out.

Traylon looked over at her. "Tris?" he breathed. "Wh-where...?"

"You're home. In Silvermoon," Trisen assured him. "You're safe."

Traylon put a hand over his eyes, trying to calm his rapid breathing. Trisen rubbed his back. He had been plagued by nightmares and night terrors for the last two years. She knew it was because of what Arthas had put him through in the Pit of Saron, and the healers in Dalaran had told her it could take years, if not decades, for him to return to a normal mental state.

"Ann'da? Minn'da?" came a small voice from the doorway.

"Come in, Thall," Trisen said.

Thallon walked over to Traylon's side of the bed. "Did the bad guys start hurting you again, Ann'da?" he asked.

Traylon put a hand on his son's head. "Yes, little one. They did," he replied.

Thallon held up a toy sword. "Uncle Solan is teaching me how to fight bad guys," he said. "I can stop them from hurting you, Ann'da."

Traylon reached down and picked him up. "Is that so?" he asked.

Thallon lightly touched his sword against Traylon's head. He held it there for a moment before lowering it again.

"There," he said.

"I feel a lot better. What did you do?" Traylon asked.

"You are now blessed with the Light," Thallon stated with a wide smile. "No bad guys can hurt you now because you are blessed with the Light."

Trisen and Traylon smiled and chuckled. Traylon hugged Thallon close.

"Thank you, Thall," he said.

"Can I stay here with you and Minn'da?" Thallon asked. "That way I can be here if the bad guys decide to come back."

"Of course," Trisen told him.

Thallon climbed under the sheets between his parents. The family of three settled down under the blankets. With everyone tucked safely in bed, they all fell into a restful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

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